Here you will find the Poem Story of Mrs. W- of poet Dorothy Parker
My garden blossoms pink and white, A place of decorous murmuring, Where I am safe from August night And cannot feel the knife of Spring. And I may walk the pretty place Before the curtsying hollyhocks And laundered daisies, round of face- Good little girls, in party frocks. My trees are amiably arrayed In pattern on the dappled sky, And I may sit in filtered shade And watch the tidy years go by. And I may amble pleasantly And hear my neighbors list their bones And click my tongue in sympathy, And count the cracks in paving-stones. My door is grave in oaken strength, The cool of linen calms my bed, And there at night I stretch my length And envy no one but the dead.